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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27055054">THE AUTHOR IS YEARNING</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/misermachines/pseuds/misermachines'>misermachines</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Don't Starve (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cuddling, F/M, Sharing a Bed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:34:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>278</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27055054</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/misermachines/pseuds/misermachines</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Charlie very much appreciates a sleeping Wilson.</p><p>And yes, the author is yearning.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Charlie/Wilson (Don't Starve)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>THE AUTHOR IS YEARNING</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There's a particularly exhausted sort of noise when he nuzzles into her. As expected, he begins purring, and, as expected, he eventually falls into a lighter rhythm, one that doesn't require as much focus to upkeep, before eventually falling silent as sleep overtakes the mind.</p><p>She makes sure the shared blanket is over the scientist, and wraps her arms around him in a hug.</p><p>In his sleep, he twitches, and clumsily tries to hug back, the actions are ingrained into subconscious thought by now. He gets it after a few moments.</p><p>Cuddling a particular scientist as the former queen of the realm has never felt so nice.</p><p>She runs a hand through his hair, often frizzy and scruffy as it may be. It's filled with small tangles and split ends and probably a few knots by now, given that it tends to go for long stretches of time between brushing sessions.</p><p>She's seen how Wendy manages to tame his beard, manages to braid it into something manageable for doing science with or when he required extended usage of his hands. (He tends to tuck it into his shirt when he has to do something and Wendy isn't around.)</p><p>She might have asked why he didn't just do it himself before, he ended up responding that he didn't have the dexterity with his fingers, besides, it was a nice little routine that they had.</p><p>Wigfrid also tended to try and braid Wilson's beard, to which he'd responded cautiously at first.</p><p>He's definitely made himself comfortable, she's noticed, idly blinking as she just barely makes out the shape of him, curled up under the covers next to her.</p><p>She smiles.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>probably set in that Spirit of the Constant at night au.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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